


Leave It All Behind

by Malfoysdarkness



Series: How It Feels To Be Lost [1]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Charles-centric, Erik Has Feelings, Erik Lehnsherr Loves Charles Xavier, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, Lots of Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:41:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21576235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malfoysdarkness/pseuds/Malfoysdarkness
Summary: Erik leaves after the events of D.C and abandons Charles once more. He turns up again a few months later, and Charles has a few things to say about it.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Series: How It Feels To Be Lost [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554955
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	1. Coming Home

"Goodbye, old friend." 

Charles closed his eyes. Those words, those three little words that broke him each time they were said. Leaning into Hank, his legs numb, Charles straightened. He pressed his lips together and stared Erik straight in the face. The man's expression was unreadable, of course. Erik knew how to control his emotions, put on a mask. 

"Goodbye, Erik," Charles replied, his voice sounding steady, despite the tremble in his body. After all this, getting him out of prison, playing chess with him again… it was all for nothing. Erik was going to leave, of course he was. He would leave it all behind, like always. 

Without saying another word, Erik rose into the sky. Charles watched him go, and, when he disappeared from sight, he gripped Hank's shoulder tightly. How could Erik be so selfish? Every time he left, and every time Charles thought he was different. Hot tears came to his eyes and Charles pushed them back, refusing to cry over a man who had abandoned him so many times. 

"Charles, are you okay?" 

Hank's voice brought Charles out of his thoughts and he nodded, not daring to speak just yet, lest his voice crack. Hank sat him on a piece of rubble and pressed the hem of his shirt to Charles' forehead, hoping to stem the bleeding of the cut above his eye. Charles barely noticed the pain, feeling numb and dizzy. Hank bit his lip and glanced around for Raven, but she had gone. As the ambulances arrived and Charles was checked over by a medic, the man was on the brink of tears. He was too tired to hold them back, so they flowed down his cheeks quietly. He couldn't see Hank through his blurred eyes, but knew what he was thinking.  _ Erik was an arsehole for leaving Charles _ . Yeah, Charles thought so too, but he would never let himself admit it. 

"Erik can rot in hell for all I care," Charles spat out bitterly, not meaning a word. Hank seemed to understand, however, and simply squeezed Charles' shoulder. 

"They're fishing Logan out of the water, he's going to be okay," Hank said softly. Charles nodded, knowing he needed to think of the positives. Raven was safe, Logan was alive, the future was changed and mutants were protected, though now fully in the public eye. It was good. Charles and Hank could restart the school and Erik wouldn't be heard for another ten years or so. That's just the way it was. 

"Is the president okay?" Charles said quietly. It was the only thing he could think of to say. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, feeling weak for crying over a man who had killed for his own gain. 

"Thanks to your friend, I am," said the man himself. Charles looked up. President Nixon smiled and held out his hand. Charles shook it. Nixon looked rather cheerful, despite the White House being completely surrounded by a vast stadium. It would take a lot to clean up, especially without Erik to assist the repairs. He even ripped out the front of the White House. How on earth would Charles pay for all the damages? 

"Her name is Raven," Charles said, glancing at the spot where she had left. He had hoped she would stay, talk with him, stay with him, but he still knew too little about her, despite knowing her for most of her life. She was so different from the girl he used to know. 

"Well, be sure to give her my thanks when you see her," the president smiled and patted Charles' shoulder before walking away. Charles nodded. It was too good to hope that she would be back soon. Raven was her own person now, she had things to do. Charles just wasn't a part of them now. 

"Can we go home, Hank?" Charles said, the tiredness in his voice showing his exhaustion in full force. Hank nodded, taking a wheelchair from one of the medics and helping Charles into it. They made their way across the uneven grass, through the small gap in the stadium made by the ambulances, and out into Washington. Police cars were stationed all around and a few officers nodded to Charles and Hank. 

"Where did you leave the car?" Charles murmured, feeling a headache begin to grow behind his eyes. He rubbed his head, leaning back so his head rested against Hank's stomach. Hank squeezed his shoulder before taking him over to where the car was parked. The area was empty, aside from the police. Everyone had cleared out in their panic. 

"Get some sleep, Charles. It's a long drive home," Hank said gently, helping Charles into the passenger seat. The instant he was settled, Charles let his eyes close. He felt Hank get in beside him and start the car, but soon after, he fell asleep, only waking when the car pulled up outside of the X Mansion. 

It looked… messier than he remembered. Last time he was there, he was fuelled by drugs and barely noticed the house and grounds falling into decay. Another wave of guilt swept over him and he pushed open the car door, transferring to his own, more comfortable wheelchair. Rolling across to the front gates, he picked up the heavy sign which read,  _ Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters _ , laying on the grass. Charles took a breath, squaring his shoulders before turning to Hank. 

"Come on, Hank. We need to get this school back up and running," he said, firmly. Hank smiled. 

"You read my mind, Charles."

"I swear I didn't." 


	2. New Students

"Your son's powers are incredible, Mrs Drake. With enough training, he will be able to control them as easily as anything," Charles smiled, watching as the young boy turned the water in his glass to solid ice. 

"So, you'll teach him?" his mother asked hopefully. She looked more than a little afraid of her son, despite how young he was. Charles knew, from when he first started the school, how most parents feared their children because of their powers. Children in themselves are a challenge, but mutant children? They were a whole different board game.  _ No, don't think about board games _ , Charles told himself firmly.  _ Especially not the one with the black and white pieces. Those days are over.  _

"I will be more than happy to enroll him into the school," Charles smiled, wheeling back to his desk and picking up an empty file. "Every student has one of these. I will record every breakthrough with their powers, write down their development. Bobby will be free to read his file whenever he pleases, as will you." 

Mrs Drake nodded and signed the necessary paperwork. Charles then wheeled round and smiled at Bobby. "Would you like to see your room?" 

The boy's eyes lit up with excitement and he eagerly followed Charles out of the office, only pausing a moment to hug his mother goodbye. She gave Charles a soft smile of thanks before walking towards the front door, and Charles nodded in return. The school was already alive with voices and chatter, despite it only being early morning. The school's schedule wasn't strict, as Charles wanted it to feel more like a holiday camp than a boarding school. The lesson times were set, but mealtimes varied, depending on when the students wanted to eat. The younger ones tended to all eat in one big group, whereas the teenagers, few that there were, ate by themselves, either on the grounds or in their rooms. 

"You'll be sharing with James Proudstar, and Lucas Bishop," Charles said to an awe-struck Bobby, as they went up in the lift to the second floor. "They're about your own age, and haven't been here long." 

"Do they have powers like me?" Bobby asked hopefully, bouncing on his toes. Charles smiled, leading him down the corridor. Kitty ran towards them, books in hand. Charles braced himself, waiting for the crash, but she phased right through him. His face broke out in a grin and he turned to see her. She looked equally surprised and pleased with herself. 

"Well done, Kitty! Perfectly spot on this time!" he grinned, holding up his hand and she high-fived him, before skipping down the corridor to the stairs. Bobby stared after her, eyes wide. Charles grinned, patting his shoulder. 

"That's Kitty. Her powers are intangibility." 

At Bobby's bewildered expression, Charles continued. "She can pass through things. Like a ghost. When she first came here, she could barely control it. Now, she's really getting there." 

"So… I can learn how to control my powers?" Bobby asked, eyes lighting up. Charles smiled. 

"That's what you're here for," he said, before opening a door to their left. Inside were two other boys, whispering to each other. They looked up as Charles and Bobby entered. 

"James, Lucas, this is Bobby. He'll be staying here too," Charles smiled. Lucas stuck his hand out and Bobby shook it. Lucas whistled, grinning. 

"Whoah, your hands are freezing!" he laughed and James instantly moved forward to feel. Bobby began to explain his powers to them and Charles left the room, a smile on his face. It had only been a few months, but with the school back up and running, it gave him a purpose. If he didn't have the children to teach and look after, Charles knew he would still be moping around the house, drinking more whiskey than would be socially acceptable. Even Hank seemed happier, even though Raven hadn't come home yet. They had heard no mention of her, but Hank was adamant she would return. 

Just when Charles was about to sink back into his thoughts, Clarice appeared beside him in a flash of purple light. He blinked and she grinned cheekily at him. 

"You're late for your class, professor!" she sang and Charles glanced quickly at his watch. He muttered a silent curse under his breath. He  _ was  _ late. Clarice held out her hand to him and Charles gave her a thankful smile. He took her hand and in less than a moment, he was outside his classroom. 

"Charles!" said Hank, glancing up with a wry smile. "You're-" 

"Late, I know. I had to settle in a new student," Charles wheeled across to the desk. "Bobby Drake. Ice powers. He's up with James and Lucas now." 

Hank shook his head in bemusement. "You need to start being more picky about who we accept into the school, Charles. We don't have enough teachers to support all these kids." 

Charles ignored him. He wouldn't let  _ any  _ mutant children be turned away at the door. He couldn't. They all had to be helped, be protected. Without saying another word to Hank, who promptly left, Charles began the lesson. 


	3. Memories

"And that will be your homework for tomorrow, that's the end of the lesson, thank you," Charles said, watching as the students packed up their books and left the classroom. It wasn't officially a classroom yet, more of a living room, but Charles hadn't gotten around to buying proper tables and chairs yet. Anyway, he liked the comfortable, relaxed feel of teaching there. 

It had almost been a year since DC and Charles had been avoiding almost every room in the west side of the house, as he had done since Cuba. The west side was where Erik had lived during his time there. Charles was sure if he ventured into the rooms, he would find the unfinished chess game and two glasses set out in the drawing room, a layer of dust over each item. In Erik's bedroom, Charles wasn't so sure. He hadn't dared explore, half believing it to be an invasion of Erik's privacy, but also because he was too scared to look. He was too scared to find out more about Erik, about the man's life before it crossed paths with Charles'. 

Charles hesitated in his own thoughts, almost stopping himself. He glanced to the door, making sure he wasn't needed by Hank or one of the students before wheeling out towards the lift. The school felt empty, but it was a nice day and most of the were outside enjoying the sunshine, and their powers. Charles knew Hank would be out there too, keeping an eye on them. Perfect opportunity. 

Hank had installed several lifts around the school for ease of access, but Charles had never used the one which led to the west wing. He daren't go near it, took afraid of past memories. Not this time, however. Charles gritted his teeth and surged forward. 

Rolling into the lift, Charles pressed the button and waited. He saw himself in the lift mirror and hid a grimace. Still recovering from his withdrawal symptoms from the drugs he had taken before, his face was pale and his hair hung limply, without its old shine and waves. Running a hand through it in a vague attempt to smarten up, Charles wheeled out of the lift before pausing. This part of the house hadn't been touched by the children. It felt dead, empty, soulless. 

"Hello?" Charles called out before he could stop himself. His voice echoed down the cold hall and an open window at the end of the corridor set Charles' teeth on edge.  _ It must have been open since 1962, _ Charles told himself, shaking out his nerves and heading forward. The corridor gave him seven closed doors, one for each member of the first class. The ones on the left belonged to Sean, Alex, Moira and Hank. Charles wasn't about to pry into their personal belongings. He felt a painful twinge when he thought about Sean, remembering Erik telling him the boy was dead. He was just a kid. 

Squaring his shoulders and reminding himself why he was there, Charles turned to the other three doors. Raven's, his, and Erik's. He bypassed his own room, not having any interest in his younger self's dissertations and books of Dickens and Byron. He paused by Raven's door, hand reaching out for the doorknob, but he stopped himself. He would not invade Raven's privacy. He knew how protective she was of her own things. 

After what felt like years, Charles reached Erik's door. Pressing his lips together, he pushed inside without any further dithering. The door creaked but let him in, the dust being swept up in curls through the air as Charles entered. The room was as immaculate and neat as Charles would have expected of Erik. Nothing was out of place. A bottle of unopened beer sat on the bedside table, clearly ready for Erik's undoubtable return after Cuba. Several shirts and his pair of cream trousers were folded neatly on the chest of drawers, along with a small bottle of aftershave. Charles couldn't help himself. He picked up the bottle, blew the dust off before taking off the lid. Dear bloody fuck, it smelt like Erik. Charles' breath left him in one second and he had to close his eyes, his hand beginning to shake. He slowly set down the aftershave once again and rubbed his forehead. 

Thanks to Charles' telepathy, his mind worked more vividly than the ordinary person. With that aftershave he had instantly been brought back to bright memories of Erik. Sitting with him, playing chess, debating various topics. Even pulling him out of the water, the first day they met. Emotion overwhelmed Charles and he pushed away from the chest of drawers. The wheel of his chair scraped over something which wasn't wooden floor. He wiped his eyes quickly, hoping whichever ghost haunted the house didn't see him cry. He rolled his wheelchair back off the object and picked it up slowly. It was a small book, thin and clearly handmade. It looked old too, like something from Erik's childhood. Charles opened it, but the handwritten writing was in German. Charles didn't know the language, but he could make out several words on the first page.  _ To Erik, love mama _ . 

"Shit," Charles breathed out shakily, closing the book again. Erik had told him what had happened to his parents, let him look into his head and see how much his mother had meant to him. To leave this behind… Erik must have been devastated. Pressing the book to his chest, Charles left the room again, closing the door behind him. As he went to the lift, Hank's voice in his head made him jump. 

_ Charles, James has accidentally knocked Bobby out, can you come and help?  _

Charles gave a wet laugh, realising with a jolt that he couldn't live in the past anymore, couldn't live in this section of the mansion, where memories of better and worse times stayed. He nodded, even though Hank couldn't see it, before wheeling into the lift. 

_ I'll be just there, Hank _ , Charles replied, before glancing at Erik's book once again. The pages were well-thumbed and yellowed with age, showing Erik had read it over and over. Charles  _ had  _ to find a way to give it to him. Even after all he did, Erik deserved to have it. Charles knew he would find him, he just needed Cerebro to do it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made the chapter count less, just because this story is the first in an 11-part series, so there'll be plenty more to come, don't worry!


	4. Cerebro

"What are you doing down here, Charles?" 

Charles closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. Of course Hank would sniff him out. He slowly set down the Cerebro helmet and moved his wheelchair round to face him. Hank raised an eyebrow expectantly. 

"I was going to find Erik," Charles admitted.

Hank moved forward and switched off Cerebro. "Charles, you said you would leave him alone. He made it plain and clear last time what he would do if you interfered again." 

"I may be able to get through to him, Hank! If he lets me in then maybe I can help make him better," Charles insisted. 

"People like him? You can't make them better, Charles. They only get worse." 

Charles huffed, making Hank move aside as he wheeled his chair out of the room and down the corridor, towards the lift. "You're always being so morose, Hank. So depressing. It really puts a dampener on my mood." 

"Oh! Your mood. Of course," Hank laughed, but he didn't sound like he was being funny. He followed Charles but the man didn't pause to wait for him. "It's always about you, isn't it Charles?" 

That made him stop. Charles turned his chair to face him. "What on earth do you mean? It's never about me, Hank!" 

Hank nodded. "Right. Cuba wasn't about you? You and Erik? If it's not you, its him. If not him, it's you! Don't you understand, Charles? You're the problem! You're the reason why Erik does all of this." 

Charles' jaw tightened. "I didn't tell Erik to shoot Raven, or to throw a stadium round the White House!" 

"Yes, but you may as well have! Erik does everything for effect. Everything to get a rise out of you!" Hank continued. Both their voices continued to rise in pitch, until a third voice joined and they both stopped. "Professor Xavier? Dr McCoy?" 

Charles turned and his frustration deflated at the sight of Bobby, waiting hesitantly in the lift. "What is it, Bobby?" Charles asked. 

"There's a man upstairs, he says he wants to talk with you." 

Charles and Hank looked at each other and Hank glanced at Bobby. "What does he look like?" 

Bobby shrugged. "Short hair, ginger, plaid shirt. Oh! He looks like that man from the TV last year!" 

Charles took a sharp intake of breath, his blood running cold. A quick mind-sweep of the upstairs hall showed a visible block on someone's mind. Charles closed his eyes. "It's Erik," he murmured. 

"Should I… Tell him to go away?" Bobby asked. Charles shook his head, wheeling over to the lift and giving Bobby a reassuring smile, but he was hardly in the reassuring mood. 

"I'll do it, thank you Bobby." 


End file.
